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CHAPTER ONE She made me promise to visit her grave. "Alex," she gasped, "promise me ... you'll visit ... us ... every week." I gently held her hand, careful not to dislodge any of the needles in her arm carrying painkillers and other drugs to her shattered body. "Mom, you aren't going to die ... you're gonna make it. Just rest and let the doctors do their jobs." The nurse turned away from the hospital bed as she changed one of the many IV's. I could see her face but Mom couldn't. The look in her eyes told me that she knew I was lying. Mom knew it too. "No Alex ... promise me ... it's important." "But Mom ..." "Promise!" she pleaded. What could I say? The nurse's frown clearly communicated her thoughts. "Promise, you prick! Give her what she wants!" "Sure, Mom. Whatever you want." "I mean it ... mine and Terry's." "You'll be right next to each other, Mom." "Really promise." "Absolutely. I promise. Every week." She gave my hand a faint squeeze and then relaxed. "Thank you, Alex. You're a good son," she mumbled as the morphine in the new IV kicked in. That was two months ago. The guilt had finally built up to the point that I caught the bus to visit their graves for the first time since the funerals. They aren't in a very nice section of the graveyard. The markers are just simple rectangular stones flush with the ground. Freelance hackers don't have steady incomes. It takes me awhile to get my bearings and find the graves. It's a cold, damp, blustery day and the only other people out here are mourners leaving from a just finished funeral. As I approach the graves, I see the flowers. Fresh flowers on both graves. Where the heck did those come from? None of the other nearby graves have any flowers. Mom had a few friends, mostly neighbors, but Terry? He wasn't the type of person who made friends easily. Friendly to others but most people didn't respond in kind. It's not likely that Mom's friends would have approved of Terry. Flowers on both graves. Odd. I check out both bunches but there is no card of any kind. Guess it doesn't matter. Looking at the departing people, I start to feel a little self-conscious. Why did Mom want me to come out here? She wasn't religious, none of us were. She did believe in all that New Age magic crap: Tarot cards, fortune tellers, magic crystals, spells and charms. She spent a lot of money on that worthless stuff. That and booze. What does that have to do with me being here? "I'm here, Mom. Sorry it took so long. I've been busy." I look around. The only ones remaining are the employees, cleaning up and filling in the new grave. They're over two hundred feet away and not paying any attention to me. "What's this all about, Mom? Why am I here? What do you want from me?" There's no answer. Didn't expect one. Guess I could just talk to her. "The cops don't have anything new about the guy who ran you and Terry down. They wouldn't tell me anything, said it was an ongoing investigation. Like that'd stop me. I cracked their servers in minutes. The car was stolen, no fingerprints left behind. A couple of witnesses said they saw the driver jump into another car and drive off but that car turned out to be stolen too. No finger prints either. They assume it was some kind of joyride race thing that got out of hand. The one guy losing control, jumping the sidewalk, hitting you and Terry. The case doesn't seem to be a high priority." My phone rings. It's a text from Jacob. He's got a job for me. "Sorry, Mom. I gotta go. Work. I know I promised to come here every week. I'll do the best that I can. I will." Pulling my coat collar up against the rising winds, I walk quickly away, back towards the bus stop. * * * *** * * * *** * * * I push the door open at Jacob's computer repair shop, the door buzzing until it closes. He's not there but calls out from the back. "Hang on! I'll be right out!" "It's Alex!" He comes around the corner and waves me to the back of the shop. "Hey man, where ya' been? Texted you like forty minutes ago." He walks down the hall as I come around the waist high, glass topped counter and follow him down the shelf lined hallway, the shelves stacked with assorted pieces of tech equipment, repair tags dangling and twirling in the wake of our passing.. "I was out of the area." "Doing what?" "You know I won't answer that question." "Alex Thompson, man of mystery, paranoid political terrorist." "I'm an anarchist, not a terrorist." Jacob opens a door and steps through. "What's the difference, man?" I follow him. "I don't want to replace this government with a different government. I don't like any governments." He sits down behind a desk. I sit down on the other side. "Whatever. I'm a businessman," he says. "Businesses can be worse than governments." "Hey dude, I'm an equal opportunity service provider. You got the bread, I'm your man, screw politics." "What's the job, Jacob?" "Just the facts huh? That's cool. Somebody needs to know what the SEC has on them. Right up your alley. Fucking with the government for a businessman." I don't let my political views interfere with my income. Most of the time. "Who's the client?" "No one big. He's a tech guy. Played a little fast and loose with an IPO." "A tech guy? Why not do it himself?" Jacob spreads his hands. "Alex, my man. You're the best! He needs it done now and quietly. I told him that there wasn't a better hacker in the entire city of New York, on the East Coast. Hell, in the entire ..." I raise my hand to stop him. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. I'm good. How much?" "Ten thousand, if you can deliver." "IF? I thought I was the best." "I hear the SEC is a tough nut to crack. Particularly if they're not to know you've been there." Ten thousand. Sure could use that money. New York City is a damn expensive place to live, even if you stay off the grid. "I'll get in and out but I get paid for what I find, no matter if he thinks it's enough. The FBI and NYPD are looking for me. I need to be compensated for the risk." "Don't have to sell me, Alex. If things are hot around here, why don't you blow town for awhile?" "I was born and raised in New York City. Never been more than seventy five miles from the Empire State Building. I know how to hide. Do I do the job here?" "I got what you need, some wicked fast hardware and a T1 line; just make sure they don't trace you back to me." I lean back in the chair, tipping it up on its back legs and prop my feet on his desk. "Jacob. I'm the best." * * * *** * * * *** * * * It's three weeks before the guilt becomes unbearable again and I return to Mom and Terry's graves. There's more fresh flowers but this time, I see a woman walking away as I approach. She wasn't standing next to their graves; she was already walking away from the general area when I saw her. She could have been the one but just as easily not. I'd feel like an idiot if I chased her down and it wasn't her leaving the flowers. Doesn't really matter, I'm just curious. "Hey, Mom. I'm back. I know, sorry. Been slammed with work." That's not true but she doesn't know that. Or does she? What am I doing here? I don't know if I believe in an afterlife or not. There's no logical reason for there to be a Heaven. I'm more agnostic than atheist. If I can't see, touch, taste or hear it, I don't believe it. I know that there are physical phenomena that are beyond the human senses but mankind has created ways to detect them. I've yet to see a God detector or a Heaven meter. "I've got a new place, Mom. It's an abandoned building up on 83rd street. I was able to tap the power and phone lines so it's looking good. You'd like it. All my furniture's been moved in. They've got fencing up which keeps the bums and druggies out but I fixed a section so that it swings open. Put my own lock on it. I should be able to stay there for ten to twelve months." Gotta keep on the move. Too many people looking for me. Actually, they don't know it's me they're looking for but they are trying to find the guy whose been breaking into all their secured data bases. Mom never liked my choice of profession but she didn't stop me from paying her rent or buying her food. It freed her up to buy booze with her disability checks. "Still nothing from the cops on your hit and run. I was thinking I might hire someone to look into it. Someone with connections. They might be able to dig up something the cops can't. It could be worth a shot." Suddenly, I get the feeling that I'm being watched. I slowly walk around the graves, acting like I'm inspecting the grounds but I'm actually looking for anyone paying attention to me. There's nothing unusual but I've learned to trust my gut. "Look, Mom. I gotta be going. I'll be back as soon as possible. You know how it is." Best that I take a different bus and use a different subway station to get home. Just to be safe. * * * *** * * * *** * * * I ended up changing buses twice before I felt safe. Stopped at a Chinese Restaurant for take out before finally sneaking through my new private entrance and squeezing past the plywood covering the nearest window. I pull a flashlight from my coat pocket to illuminate the hall. Eventually I'll have this memorized but not yet. It's surprising how many different kinds of tables, chairs, couches and beds fold up into bags or are inflatable. Shelves are a little tougher to deal with but there are several models that knock down. I can get practically everything I own stuffed into the back of a big SUV with the seats folded down and it takes only on hour or so to do it. Right now, it's all set up on the second floor of a nearly completed building which is one of several involved in a complex bankruptcy case. It may be years before the whole thing is sorted out. Until then, I'll have free housing that is completely off the grid. I'd been on the run for the last three years and this was the best place I'd found in all that time. Nice neighborhood, good restaurants nearby, lots of hackable wi-fi networks. I'm aware that most everyone I know thinks that I'm paranoid but once I decided to hack for hire I knew that I'd need to disappear from the radar. So far, I'd been able to put a decent sum of money away, not enough to retire on or anything, but decent. Low six figures. The original plan was to make enough money to take care of Mom for life and Terry's ... medical needs. Now, I haven't decided what to do. I could go back and finish college, get my degree in computer science, which seems like a waste of time and money but would let me go legit. Truth be told, ever since that car jumped the curb and hit them, I've kinda just been on automatic. Terry was killed outright but Mom hung on for almost a week. She was tougher than I gave her credit for. The bastard that hit them, that guy needs to pay for what he did. I can keep track of what the cops are doing but there's not much I can do on my own. The longer it takes, the better the chance he's going to get away with killing my mother and twin brother. * * * *** * * * *** * * * This time it was only two weeks and the weather was crappy. I could have used it as an excuse but didn't. The rain trails away just as I get off the bus. Convenient. It's the middle of November and not a soul in sight. So to speak. The ground is soft and slick. I pay attention to avoid stepping into a puddle or a hole, eventually reaching the graves. No flowers this time. Guess I'm not the only one who's been negligent. "Hey, Mom. It's me. Look ... I know I promised I'd be here every week but I - I don't understand what this is supposed to accomplish. You're not actually here, neither's Terry. If you want to make sure I think about you guys, I do that every day. Sometimes too much. I miss both of you. A lot. Who's this supposed to help? I - I can't keep coming ..." I hear someone slip behind me and I spin around. There's a middle aged woman, mixed gray/black hair, dressed in a dark brown leather overcoat, holding two bouquets of flowers. She looks startled. "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to interrupt you." * * * *** * * * *** * * * She offered to give me a ride home then asked if I'd like to stop for coffee. Normally, I'd have said no, but my curiosity got the better of me. Her name was Mirantha. Just Mirantha. No last name. I managed to keep my chuckle to myself. Just the kind of loopy woman my mother would've befriended. She picked a little neighborhood coffee shop, not a Starbucks, which was a point in her favor. I chose a booth near the backdoor, just in case I need to make a quick exit. We settle in with large steaming mugs and muffins. Let the interrogation begin. "So, Mirantha, how did you know my mother?" "I knew both of them. I met Jackie at a quaint little bookstore and Terri when I visited them at their home. You and Terri are twins?" "Fraternal. I was born first. I was the big brother and he was the little brother. A family joke." "Clearly you and he weren't identical twins. You're much taller, over six feet?" "Six one. Terry was only five five and about a hundred and thirty pounds." "He certainly had a trim figure." "So ... you knew that he was ..." "Transgendered? Yes, I first met him, or her I should say, the second time I visited their apartment. Terri was a very lovely person." "Not everyone thought so." "That was their loss, wouldn't you say?" "Yeah, I guess. Made his life hell during high school." "So she told me. She also told me that you were her protector all those years." And ever since. There were many times that I wished Terry hadn't been so ... out there. He just attracted trouble. When he was dressed as "Terri", you'd swear he was a girl, a real pretty girl. When dressed as "Terry", he came across as a very effeminate boy or man. It would have been easier on us all if he had stayed as "Terri". Would have saved me a lot of fights in high school. Terry wanted to transition but couldn't raise the money. It was hard for him to get or keep jobs. That's one of the reasons I was trying to make money as hacker for hire. "It was a shame that you're mother had such a problem with alcohol." That was the other reason. "Yeah, it was." "She often told me that she was so sorry about her problem's impact on your life, that you were more like a parent to her and Terri than she was." That was true. When Mom was on a binge, someone had to be responsible. Ever since I was ten years old, I kept the family together. We never knew who our father was and Mom's family gave up on her years ago. It was just the three of us. "She was so proud of you, of the man you have become." "I'm only twenty one." "True, but mature beyond your years." "Maybe. If you and she were such good friends, why do you think she never mentioned your name to me? I'm sure I'd have remembered 'Mirantha.'" She smiles. "I would hope so. I assume it was because of our shared interest in magic. That was a sore point between the two of you, was it not?" Great. I knew she was loopy. "Yeah, it was. No offense." "None taken. Why do you have so much trouble accepting the existence of magic?" "Look. Mirantha. We've had a nice time sitting here in a warm room while it's pouring rain outside and I don't want to spoil it by getting into a fight. Let's just leave it at we agree to disagree on this." She smiles again. "Very sensible. I'll agree for today but I'm not going to give up on you just yet. We must meet again. Would you come to my home sometime next week for dinner? I'm not a great cook, but I don't starve." No, it doesn't look like she does. She looks to be in pretty good shape for a woman in her ... fifties? Hard to say. Still, why should I see her again? My curiosity has been satisfied. She senses my reluctance. "Your mother told me a great deal about her life, her family, things she may not have told you. It would be a shame for you to not know." Ahhh ... what the hell. "Sure, I can come." "Wonderful!" She removes a pad of paper and pen from her expensive purse, writes down an address and hands it to me. "I could pick you up, if you prefer." "No, I can find this." "How about Wednesday at seven then?" "Sure, okay." "Do you want a ride home today?" I look out the window. The rain is slacking off and there's a subway station just two blocks away. "No thanks. I got it." "You certain? It's no trouble." "No, it's cool. It was nice to meet you, Mirantha." "It was nice to meet you too, Alex." * * * *** * * * *** * * * Jacob texted me again two days later. Apparently the same client needed me to hack the New York State Security and Exchange office, plus the State Attorney General's office. I quoted him thirty thousand this time and he agreed immediately. What I got for him last time must have scared him. Should have asked for fifty thousand. Greedy bastard. This time, I bike over to Jacob's place. Subways and buses are easier but riding a bike gives you more control. You can go places a car can't and hide fairly quickly. Riding in New York traffic in November isn't a lot of fun but you can scoot through or around most traffic jams. Dress in layers and it's not bad. The State networks are tougher to crack than the feds. New York's more interested in computer security than the US government. Maybe they're just more competent. I don't read everything that I find but I do read enough to make sure I've found what the client wants and it's everything available. I'm no securities expert but I'd say this guy's in big trouble. CHAPTER TWO Mirantha's place is more normal than I expected. Most of Mom's "magic" friends lived in houses or apartments full of pseudo-magical crap. Lots of crystals and herbs and incense. Weird paintings and yarn mobiles. You always had to be careful where you sat or stepped. Mirantha's apartment was a little old, a little dark but other than that, completely normal. She was right though, not much of a cook. The pasta was sticky and the Carbanera Sauce was straight from the jar. The bread was good but clearly from a bakery. It was okay, just not what I could do. I fixed most of the meals at home. Mom would do that if she was up to it but that became a rare occasion as we got older. Terry never had a big appetite. I always suspected he was a bit bulimic. Trying to stay thin when his body wanted to mature, put on muscle. He didn't start taking hormones until his last year in high school. Dropped out as a Junior but did get his GED. I made sure of that. He was too smart to let his education slide. I hoped that he'd go back to school once he had transitioned. One thing Mirantha could make was coffee. Black and strong. The kind to keep you up all night and well into the morning. I was known for making strong coffee but this stuff would take the enamel off your teeth. I'm a little jealous. We sit in her living room, her on the couch and me in a rocking chair, the coffee pot on the low table between us. We both have a decent sized mug in our right hands, sipping slowly. "You said you could tell me things about my family that I didn't know," I say. "You're right, I did. Where to start? I know. Were you aware that you are the seventh son of a seventh son?" "I don't know anything about my father. How do you?" "Your mother wasn't completely truthful with you and Terri. She was fairly certain who your father was but he was not a good man. I'm afraid he was a career criminal." "What kind of crimes?" "Theft, drugs, assault ... and murder." That explains why she was so upset about my hacking. "Where is he now?" "Dead, I'm afraid. Killed in prison. Over ten years ago." "Why did she never tell us about this?" "His family is a lot like him. She wanted to keep you away from their bad influence. She knew that you and Terri were destined to do great things and didn't want you sidetracked." Great things? I'm pretty smart and Terry was bright but nothing special. Beyond the obvious. "I don't know about 'great things' ..." "Oh, but you are! The seventh son of a seventh son? Your potential is enormous. And Terri was the eighth son of a seventh son. Practically unheard of." "So, when you say potential, you mean ..." "Magic potential, of course." Oooookaaayyy. "Was Terry aware of this potential?" "Yes. Your mother told him about it. I'm sorry that they decided to keep that information from you because of your attitude towards magic. They didn't want to upset you." "You mean argue with me about it." She sips her coffee. "You could be right about that. Your mother certainly appreciated all that you did for her and Terri but ..." she trailed off. "But what?" "I think they were a bit afraid of you." "Afraid?!" "You do have ... strong opinions." "Of course I do! When it comes to magic, who doesn't? How could anyone believe in magic in this day and age? There's no such thing!" "You're certainly correct about that. In this day. And age. And place." "Wait a minute. I thought you were like Mom, a true believer." "Oh, I am. Very much so." "Alright. Confused now." She sips from her mug again and smiles. "My dear boy. Your world is dominated by technology. Technology is the death of magic. No one believes and it is belief that makes magic powerful. There was a time when magic dominated the Earth, but no more." "When was that?" "Ancient times to you. You are right. There is little magic in your world." "MY world? What other world is there?" "Your own scientists tell you about other worlds. Are you not familiar with String Theory? The existence of multiple universes?" "Yeah, sure, but that's just theoretical. Nobody's ever actual SEEN a different universe." "But they DO exist. Isn't that what your science, what your technology says?" "Okay, yes they do, in THEORY. I'm not a physicist so I don't completely understand what they're talking about. I can't defend or attack their theories but I know a lot of very smart people believe the theories are right. I'm willing to consider the possibility that they are." "So, with multiple universes, there is also the possibility that there are ones where technology doesn't dominate and magic does. That's logical, isn't it?" I have to smile. She's very good. Mom just insisted magic was real, never presenting any decent argument for her point. Mirantha's different. Wrong, but different. "Sure, if magic was real, which it isn't." "That's not an argument, that is a statement." "It's pretty damn hard to prove a negative, that magic doesn't exist. Can you prove it does?" Another sip of coffee. "Not tonight, maybe later. Help me clean up?" * * * *** * * * *** * * * She asked me back for dinner again next week. I said I would. I know a lot of people but don't have many friends. I didn't want anyone to get too close because then they'd know about my family. I loved them but they were a little embarrassing. With Mom's drinking, she could be pretty drunk any time of day. Terry was a people person. An indiscriminant people person. Most of the people I knew weren't open minded enough to deal with him. Mirantha knows all about them. No explanations necessary. She's easy to talk with and very sharp. She could know more stuff about my father's family. Plus, I might be able to find out how she makes that coffee. * * * *** * * * *** * * * A tragedy. An absolute tragedy. The boy was perfect! A Seventy Eight! He was exactly what we needed. Not only would he have accepted the change, he would have embraced it! Now I'm stuck with the brother, who is exactly what we don't need, the only exception being he's a Seventy Seven. But, unlike his brother, he doesn't believe. In fact, he's actively anti-magic. A tech expert of all things! I can try to work with him but we're almost out of time. Everything rests on Alex Thompson. I just hope he can stay alive long enough to give me a chance. One point in his favor. He does like my coffee. * * * *** * * * *** * * * I'd agreed to meet Tommy and Frank for some beers at a local bar where the fan boys hung out, "Asimov's Ales". It's a brew pub for the technically inclined. Naturally, it's a real sausage fest. That's not to say that women can't be nerds, it's just that you get a bunch of us together and the double X chromosomes are few and far between. Occasionally, you'd get a few lookers who'd come in searching for the newly rich entrepreneurs or one of the boys would hire some pro to be his girlfriend for the night to impress the others but the population tended strongly towards the male. No matter how many Ladies Night promotions were tried. Here's where I screw up the Bell Curve. I do alright with the ladies. I'm built a lot better than your average techy. I played most sports in high school and with all the fights to protect Terry, I developed a bit of a Bad Boy reputation, which didn't hurt me at all with the girls. I'm not currently seeing anyone because living in abandoned derelict buildings isn't the turn on you'd think it would be for most women. Go figure. Anyway, it's only short term. Once I've built up the bank account, I'll give up the hacker life to rejoin society and sell my services to defend against people like me. I can be quasi-respectful and a little less profitable. For now, it's easier to be celibate in a place like "Asimov's Ales". I know both Frank and Tommy from high school. They're entry level workers at big technology companies, grunt programmers. Finished college early and jumped right into the tech wave. Their pasty faces and growing waists say they don't get out much and, when they do, it isn't to the gym. I don't work out myself but riding my bike through New York is plenty of exercise and making renovations to my current crib is my upper body fitness program. We're on our third round of beers and the second basket of wings when a familiar name on the news channel catches my eye. I stop talking mid sentence. "What's up?" asks Tommy. "I just thought I saw a name I recognized on the news scroll. It's gone now." "Who was it?" asks Frank. "Ian McShane" "That Irish guy who owned 'FutureVision'?" "Yeah. That's the guy." Frank and Tommy glance at each other then pull out their smart phones. "Ready?" asks Frank. "Set?" Tommy replies. "GO!" they shout in unison and proceed to rapidly type on their phones. It's a game they play. First one to late breaking news wins, the loser buys the next round. A minute and a half passes before Frank slaps his hand on the table and lays the phone down so we can both see the screen. "Perp walk," he says smugly. There's a flash video playing on the phone of McShane being hustled into the Federal Court building, coat thrown over his hunched shoulders, cuffed hands displayed out front, looking very unhappy. "Damn!" Tommy mutters. "I was this close!" "Tough shit!" Frank crows. "How do you know Ian McShane, Alex? You didn't invest in that fucked up IPO did you?" "Me? Noooooo. I'm strictly a gold guy, you know that." "Yeah Frank, you know Alex is Mr. Doom and Gloom. The end of the world is nigh. The government will come tumbling down, right Alex?" "Not yet, Tommy. I'm working on it. Gotta make a call." "So make it. This place has a great 4G signal." "It's private, Frank. I'll be right back. Leave me some wings." I stroll outside. Don't want to cause any suspicion. I dial Jacob's number. It rings several times before he picks up. "Who is it?" "Alex. I saw our mutual friend's name on the news channel." "Dude. Who?" "Our mutual friend. Dude." "What the fuck are you talking about, dude?" "Turn on the news channel and watch." "Okay. Hang on." He's gone about two minutes, then he comes back on. "Holy shit." "Yeah, that." "You got paid in cash, right?" "It's always cash, Jacob. What I want to know is, is there going to be any backlash on this?" "Shouldn't be any, man. Why would there?" "Because people in trouble often throw other people to the wolves if they can benefit in any way." "He doesn't know your name." "But you do and he knows yours." "Dude! I'm like majorly insulted! I've got a reputation to maintain!" "And I've got my freedom to maintain." "Paranoid, man. You are paranoid." "We'll see. You promise to let me know if anything comes up?" "Sure, dude but you sweat too much. Just chill, everything will be cool. Trust me." He hangs up. I don't trust anybody. That's why I'm still here. * * * *** * * * *** * * * "You don't seem to have much of an appetite tonight, Alex. Is there something wrong?" The food's no worse than usual. One day I'd like to bring Mirantha to my place and fix supper. Even with my limited kitchen, I could do better than she does, though the steak was grilled to perfection. "No, nothing's wrong. The steak's great. Really good." "Thank you. You seem preoccupied about something. Not your usual opinionated self." I'd been eating here once a week for over a month. The fare was average, at best, but Mirantha was an interesting person to talk to and I didn't have a lot of that in my life right now. She kept on at me about magic but wasn't obnoxious about it. I hadn't kept up my side of the fight tonight. "It's no big deal. One of my jobs may come around and bite me in the behind." She looks concerned. "It's nothing serious, I hope." "No, shouldn't be a problem. There's always at least one cut out between me and the client." "Cut out?" "An intermediary. A representative. Someone between me and the client so the client doesn't know me." "That must be a very good friend of yours to do that for you." I chuckle lightly. "They aren't a friend. They get paid. Too damn much." "Well, if they get paid, shouldn't they do what they're paid to do?" "I certainly hope so. They have up to now. It's the weak link in the system." "I'm sure you'll be fine, Alex" Sure as hell hope so. "You could be right. My 'friend' called me this week to warn me that he thought he might be under surveillance but haven't heard any more about it. He might just be nervous." "You're likely right. Care for some ice cream and coffee before you go?" "Sure. I can work it off when I ride home." "I worry about you out on that bicycle late at night. I'd be happier if you would let me drive you home. The bicycle will fit in my wagon." "You mean car, right?" "Yes, my car." Every once and awhile, Mirantha uses a strange word. She doesn't have an accent or anything, not even a New York accent, but she occasionally uses a word that made me think she wasn't from around here. She'll quickly correct it when I point it out. "Thanks, but I'm okay. It's safer at night, less traffic." "If you say so, I still worry though." * * * *** * * * *** * * * My car was parked around the corner and I was in it within two minutes of Alex leaving my apartment. Coming to New York had been an enormous cultural shock. How could it not? I had read all the reports but they just couldn't convey the reality of the place. A single city that had a much greater population than our largest four regions combined. It was inconceivable. Learning to drive and dealing with the traffic was one of the hardest adjustments. Alex was difficult to follow. I could afford to keep a bit of distance between us for the first few miles because I had tracked him this far before but I drew closer as we approached 90th Street. Last time, I'd lost him around 84th street. He lives somewhere around here, I can feel it. He's a cautious, careful prey but I will trail him to his lair and once I find him, I can finish this. * * * *** * * * *** * * * Jacob had texted me three times before I finally called using VOIP. I routed the call through New Zealand. "Hey, it's Alex." "I've been texting you, dude. What's the deal?" "Just being cautious. Anybody snooping around you?" "Naw. Just my imagination. Got a job for you." "I don't know about that. I'm better off to lay low for awhile." "Nobody's looking for you, dude. Don't go underground. It's just gonna make you nuts and pale. Come on over and I'll give you the details. It's a piece of cake and big money." "How big?" "$50,000." Damn! "What's the job?" "Just some industrial secrets. No biggie." "Why don't you do it?" "The client knows your rep. He wants the best and will pay for it." "I don't know, Jacob. I think it's just too hot out there for me to do anything right now." "You're a baby, you know that? Just come in and check it out, you want to bail after that, no problem. I got other guys who'd snap this up in a minute." "Then let 'um." "I told you. The client knows your rep. The wallet wants what the wallet wants. Just stop by. I'll have your favorite coffee." "Fine. I'll be there." "When?" "When? Since when did you care about time?" "It's ... kinda a rush job. You know business types. That's why he's willing to pay $50,000." 'Okay. In a couple of hours. How's that?" "That's cool. See ya soon, dude." I really shouldn't take this job but the money's hard to pass up. If it looks at all iffy, I'm passing on it. * * * *** * * * *** * * * I ride my bike. I want transportation, just in case. Standing across the street, looking in Jacob's front window, I start to get a bad feeling about the whole situation. I just don't like the way he was so insistent about getting me here as soon as possible. He had a good explanation but it feels wrong. I pedal away about a block and see some young guys hanging around the front of a bar. One of them has my height and build. I stop next to them. "Hey, man. Got a proposition for you." "What sup?" "For fifty bucks, I want you to walk into a store down the block wearing my hat and coat, keep your head down and say 'What's up, Jacob.'" He looks me up and down then sneers. "A hundred." I look at the guy next to him. "For fifty bucks, I want you to ..." "Okay! Okay!" said the first guy. "Fifty bucks. You got it on ya'?" I take out my wallet, remove a fifty dollar bill and hand it to him. He holds it up to the light of a lamp post to check its authenticity. He nods his head and we swap coats. I give him my hat, then pull the hood up and tighten it a bit around his head after he puts it on. Not bad. We walk back down the block and I take up my position across the street, hiding behind a big planter. I can see Jacob through his front window. My doppelganger walks up the sidewalk, pauses for a minute, opens the door and steps in. He steps in front of Jacob, head down and shoulders hunched. Nothing happens for a second or two then two guys pop up from behind the counter, guns drawn, pointing right at the stooge, whose hands go straight up in the air before a third guy comes out from the hallway and takes him down. Son of a BITCH! The bastard set me up! I'm on my bike and peddling hard long before they figure out they've got the wrong guy. I go two blocks north, dump the coat in a trash can then double back. It'll be a cold ride home. * * * *** * * * *** * * * It takes several minutes for me to stop shaking once I get home. I don't know if it's from exposure, fear or anger. Now the cops know who they're looking for. Up to now, I was just an alias, actually several aliases, but now they've got my real name. Not only that, Jacob's got security video of me! THAT RAT BASTARD! I'd bet the Feds got to McShane and found the info I stole for him. He gave Jacob up, who gave me up in an instant. Guess I shouldn't be surprised. The surprise is it didn't happen sooner. They still don't have the slightest idea where I live but I won't be free to roam the streets. Finding one guy in a city of over 8,000,000 people isn't easy but it's not impossible. I can't safely contact anyone I know. Maybe getting out of town is a good idea. Suddenly, one of my security cameras beeps. The infrared sensor was tripped. I'd installed a number of wired cameras throughout the first and second floors to keep track of things. This one is near my private entrance. I switch on the monitor and select the camera. It looks like a guy in a costume of some kind. A big woolen poncho or cape with a hood. He's wearing boots but they're not like regular boots, more like Robin Hood boots. When the guy reaches up and flips back his hood, I can see it's not a guy but Mirantha. What the hell is she doing here?! How did she find me?! I hustle out of my apartment, quietly descend the stairs and slowly approach her, wanting to be certain she's alone. I don't see or hear anyone else so I advance, intentionally kick a loose board, causing her to jump. "My goodness! Alex, is that you?" "Of course, it's me. What the hell are you doing here, Mirantha?" "I was curious to see your home. Your mother always talked about the interesting places you found to live and I wanted to see for myself." "How did you find me?" "I've been following you after the last few visits. You're a difficult man to keep track of." "I like it that way. Damn it! This day just is not going my way." "Is there something wrong, dear?" "Besides you discovering where I'm hiding? No, not much, just the government being given my real name and my friend betraying me." "I'd never betray you, Alex. I was just ... curious, that's all." "Well, now that you're here, you might as well see the place. I won't be here much longer." I lead her back to the stairs and we climb up to the second floor. After walking several dozen feet along the dark hallway, we come to my apartment. I open the door and hold it for her. She walks in and is suitably impressed. "Oh my! How so very nice! Why, I think it's better than mine! So open but still cozy. And warm. That corridor was so cold!" "I added insulation. My walls are six inches thick. It would have helped cool the place in the summer. Look, I can appreciate your curiosity but now I'm going to have to move much sooner than I anticipated. I haven't even picked a likely candidate yet. This really couldn't have come at a worse time!" "You don't have to move anywhere. I won't tell anyone. Believe me, I can keep a secret." "I'm sorry, I can't take that chance. Not now. And what are you wearing?" She grabs the front of the oversized cloak. "These? They're just my traveling clothes." "To where, a Renaissance Fair?" "What is a Renaissance Fair ..." another camera beeps. Then a second. A third. I set the monitor for multiscreens. Jesus fucking Christ. The cops. All over the place. They must have followed her. I'm a dead man. "What is it, Alex?" I glance over at her, a perplexed look on her face, and realize this is all my fault. I should have kept away from her. I should have had a better plan with more cutouts. And maybe I shouldn't have been breaking the law in the first place. It's too late for me but not too late for Mirantha. "Look, the police have us surrounded. If I can get them to chase me to the upper floors, it may give you the chance to sneak out and get away." I hurry over to a set of shelves and grab a beat up black backpack off the bottom shelf, slinging it over my shoulder. "Give me five minutes. You'll hear a lot of racket, that should attract the cop's attention. Wait two more minutes, then sneak out the way you came ... what are you doing?" She had pulled back her cloak, revealing a large leather shoulder bag underneath it. From the bag, she removes a fat wand about eighteen inches long and three inches in diameter, with numerous lights along the shaft and three knobs on the handle. She pushes a button and the lights began to flash randomly. She immediately starts fiddling with the knobs and the lights begin to synchronize. "I'm getting us out of here, Alex, that's what I'm doing." She continues to twist the dials. Oh God, this is some lazy ass piece of magic crap. "Mirantha, I appreciate the effort but you don't have time to screw around with this crap. Those cops out there mean business and you don't want to be caught up in my trouble. Put that away and ..." The air around her commences rippling as more and more lights join the pattern, the ripples radiating away from her about five feet. As the last randomly blinking light links up, a dark circle about three feet in diameter appears in the middle of the ripples. "What the HELL?!" "That is our escape route, Alex. It won't hold for more than a few seconds." "You expect me to ... do what?" "I expect both of us to jump through, at the same time. It is designed for one but will handle two in a pinch. Neither of us is overweight. That backpack will have to go though." "And exactly where does this 'escape route' lead to?" "Does it really matter? You have two choices. Trust me or wait for the police to arrest you. They appear rather close now." Two more alarms had tripped. The cops are almost outside my door. I'm not going to make it to the stairs now. Mirantha is stuck with me. And I'm stuck with her. "Do you know where it leads?" "Yes, Alex, I do but it would take some time to explain, time we don't have. The police are only seconds away but the gateway won't last that long. It is now or never, Alex." I can see the dark space begin to slowly shrink. What the hell. I shrug off the backpack. "Good," she says. "Drop it and let's go." "No. I'll hold it over my head and you grab on to me. We'll fit." "You won't need that where we are going." "I take it or I don't go." She glances at the contracting gateway, rushes towards me and wraps her arms around my waist and back. I lift the backpack over my head, take a deep breath and dive towards the black void. CHAPTER THREE We fall. A few seconds of free flight and then we land. Hard. It's wet, cold, squishy ... and smells like shit. A hard rain is falling. I roll from Mirantha's grasp and try to catch my breath, my wet clothes trailing behind me. Must have torn something in the fall. I struggle to my knees. Something's hanging across my face, blocking my eyes. Weeds or grass or vines. I try to pull them away but it hurts, like they're tangled in my hair. I pull again. "OOOWWW!" What the hell?! That's not MY voice! I cough a couple of times to clear my throat. "Uuhhg .... testing .... testing! .... TESTING!" It's some kind of high pitched version of my voice. I fight my way to my feet, slipping as I do. We must have landed in a mud pit. I feel as if I'm wearing clothes three times larger than before. Everything is soaking wet, filthy dirty and hanging off me. Dropping back to my knees, I feel around until I find my backpack. I unzip an outer pocket and pull out an LED flashlight. I push the switch and a beam of pale blue light appears. "Mirantha!" The shout feels completely inadequate, like it came from a little girl, but it seems to have worked. The woolen cloak stirs. I can make out her elbows as she places her hands on the ground and pushes up, her back leveling as she brings her legs underneath her and then stands up, her back to me. But it's not right because she grows taller ... and taller ... and taller, until she's completely upright, towering over me. I'm on my knees but she's way too tall. Then she turns to face me. It's not her! It's some enormous guy! "WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO WITH MIRANTHA?!" That God Damn voice again. I couldn't frighten a puppy. The guy raises both hands, palms out, to shoulder height, and then slowly drops to his knees in front of me. He reaches up with his right hand and pulls the hood of the cloak away from his head. "It's alright, Alex," his voice rumbles. "It's me, Mirantha." "LIKE HELL IT IS!" My light plays across his face, his eyes squinting when the beam strikes him directly. "I know it's hard to believe, Alex, but I AM Mirantha. We were just in your apartment in the abandoned building. The police were about to arrest you when I opened a portal and we escaped to here." His hair is the same color as hers, the same mix of gray and black. There are some facial similarities, like they're family, but ... "Look, you can't be Mirantha. People don't just spontaneously change genders." What the fuck has happened to my voice? "Normally not, Alex. But, I assure you, I am Mirantha. In New York, I was a woman and here I am a man. Just like in New York, you were a man but here you're a ..." OH GOD NO! I clutch my chest. NO NO NO! I reach down to my crotch. I pass out. * * * *** * * * *** * * * That went well. The first visitors from the other universe reacted similarly. They were completely surprised by the change. When our people traveled to their universe, we were prepared. At least we thought we were. It's one thing to anticipate the change; it's another thing to experience it. And the final insult is being a woman in a universe where there is no advantage. I pick up the flashlight Alex dropped and look around. There are some trees over to the left. There is no lightning so they should be safe. It's easy to pick Alex up, he probably weighs less than six stone. I should leave that backpack behind but he wanted it. I'll need his cooperation in the days to come so I'd better let him keep it. For now. The ground is just as wet under the trees as out in the field. It must have been raining for several cycles. The cows love the trees. I missed that smell when I was in the other universe. Sometimes I'd go to the stables in Central Park just for the wonderful, earthy odor. Alex makes an attractive girl. Even with her hair stringy and matted with mud, you can tell that she could be quite beautiful. It's not surprising, I found him fairly attractive when he was a man. Business first. * * * *** * * * *** * * * In God's name, what is that smell?! My back is up against a tree and my newly widened, plumper ass is sitting in ... something I don't want to think about. My flashlight is adjusted to act as a lantern and is sitting on a rock between me and Mirantha. "Ahhh, Alex, you're back." "Yeah, I am." I slide a petite hand between the buttons of my shirt and cup my breasts. I'm chilled to the bone so my nipples are as big as my little finger. Well, as big as my little finger used to be. My nipples. My breasts. My voice. My ... non-dick. This is all real. "Alright Mirantha, what is this all about?" "You seem to have recovered your senses, Alex. Quicker than most." "I haven't recovered at all. I'm just too damned cold and wet to care." "Fair enough. I did what I promised, to get us away from the police." "And where are we?" "Well, I'm not exactly sure, but my best guess is about two leagues from New Amsterdam." I shake my head. "How far away is that in American?" He smiles. "Four miles, give or take." "And New Amsterdam ... wasn't that the original name of New York, back in the sixteen hundreds?" "I wouldn't know about that. It's the name of the city east of us and we need to get you there as quickly as possible before you take ill. Can you walk?" I start to stand up. Mirantha tries to help me but I shrug him off. When I pick up the backpack, it feels twice as heavy as before. I manage to get it in place on my back, but just barely. "Let's go." "Can you make it?" "Do I have a choice?" "I guess not. I'll lead the way." "Good idea. You know I've got a lot of questions for you." "They can wait until we're safe and warm, don't you think?" "Lead on." * * * *** * * * *** * * * Thank God I'm in decent shape. Changing sexes didn't affect that. Unfortunately, my feet keep sliding around in my now too big shoes. I manage to gather together the loose areas of my clothes and tie them up so that they don't flap around me or fall off my new, more slender body. Can't do anything about keeping my breasts from bouncing around though. Mirantha leads us through the cow pasture to a dirt road, which is now a muddy mess. We follow the road for what seems like hours. The exertion of lugging the backpack helps warm me up but it also eats up my energy reserves. Mirantha offers to carry it but I don't want him to touch it. Don't trust him, to be frank about it. He offers to share his cloak but I tell him to drop dead. He just laughs and picks up his pace while I slog on behind him. We follow a tight turn in the road and spot a small, lit house. Mirantha stops next to a group of bushes. "Good. I know where we are now." "You mean we were lost up until now?" "No. I had a general idea where we were but now I know exactly. This is one of Thaylan Burns' farms. We landed in his field." "Maybe he'd like to have some of his cow shit back. I'm carrying a lot of it with me." "He won't miss it. This means we're only about a half league from the center of town." "So, a mile left to go." "Yes." "So why didn't you say that instead of 'a half league'?" "Because here we use leagues as the measurement of distance. Get used to it. We use cycles to measure time and stones to measure weight. We shouldn't run into any patrols tonight. The garrison is small and no one wants to patrol in the rain." "Patrols?! Are you saying there are people out here trying to catch us?" "Trying to catch me. They don't know about you, yet. We should be fine. There's a safe house just off the main square. We'll be there in fifteen decicycles. Sooner if you walk faster." "Fuck off, Mirantha." * * * *** * * * *** * * * It was closer to twenty minutes and the rain didn't pause for a single second the entire time. Mirantha had me wait three times while she went ahead to make sure the coast was clear. When we finally reach the house, it is much larger than I expected. "What is this place?" I whisper. "The local blacksmith, Johnathyn Tyber. He's a member of our group, a loyal member. He'll take us in. Let me do the talking." "Fine by me." We go around the back. Mirantha has me stand back behind a stack of wood while he knocks on the door. There's no answer right away. He knocks a second time and the door opens almost immediately. A man even larger than Mirantha stands in the doorway, blocking it completely. "State your business" he growls. "It is long past nightfall and I don't wish to dally in this deluge." "It is I, Miran Pegues. I have a traveling companion and we need lodging for the night." The big guy holds up a shielded lamp. The light is blocked on three sides, shining out the front like a flashlight. He shines it on Mirantha first, who signals for me to step forward. When the light hits me, I raise my arm to protect my eyes. "Pegues, you rogue! The girl is half drowned and smells of shit! Get in here immediately!" The big guy steps away from the door. Mirantha grabs my arm and drags me in behind him, the door quickly closing. I find myself in a small, old style kitchen, dominated by a large, iron stove. The wooden sink has a hand water pump. There's a small table and four chairs, a couple of free standing cabinets, shelves on the walls holding pots and pans and not much else. It is warm though, blissfully warm. I continue to tremble despite the heat. The big guy shakes his head. "You wear a great cloak about you and leave this girl in soaked rags. Gentleman you are not, Pegues." Mirantha sits down in one of the chairs. "I offered my hospitality but she refused it. You know how pig headed women can be." The big guy scowls at Mirantha then steps out of the kitchen. "Lee! Come here!" he shouts. He steps back in, followed almost instantly by a young girl. She looks like she is nine, maybe ten years old. Both of them are dressed like they stepped out of a textbook about the 1800's. He is tall and broad shouldered, big arms and hands, wearing a loose fitting grayish white button front cotton shirt, black pants and big leather boots. She is dressed in a long, light blue, long sleeve gingham dress, belted at the waist. She has on tan leather moccasins. You can tell they're related. Both have sandy blonde hair and blue eyes, though hers are downcast as she enters the room. "Yes, Father?" "Draw a bath for our young guest here. She is in dire need of both hot water and strong soap ... and perhaps some of those fragrant oils you are so fond of." "Do we have hot water prepared?" "I had heated some for myself for use in the morning but her needs are far greater than mine. Off with you." The young girl grabs my hand and starts to lead me away. Just as we were almost out the door, the big guy reaches out with his large hand and drops it on top of my backpack. "You may leave your pack here." "N-n-n-o-o-o th-th-an-an-ks-ks," I say through chattering teeth. "I-t-t- t-t sta-a-a-y-y-s wi-th-th m-e-e." His eyes widen at my response, but the girl pulls me away before he can say anything more. * * * *** * * * *** * * * "Pegues! Did you hear that? I offer her the hospitality of my home and she defies me! A complete stranger defies me! I may take that from my daughter, but not from a young girl!" "Calm yourself, Johnathyn. She is a stranger to our lands, not familiar in our ways." "By Zaphod's beard, is she ... the One?!" "Yes and no. Things did not go as planned. That is why we are here now. We can talk later. Right now, I need a large mug of Klatch. The other world has nothing like it." * * * *** * * * *** * * * Stretched out in this metal tub of almost painfully hot water, there is no denying that I am a woman. Completely and totally. I'm probably a C cup. My ass feels huge but it's really not. My arms and legs are slender but the muscles have good definition. My waist is a lot smaller than it was. When I get a chance, I'll take the tape measurer from my pack and check. I've got the same figure my mother had when she was my age. I've seen pictures. She was a knockout. My hair is black and longer than hers. Mom's was more mousy brown; that's why she dyed it. While I'm alone, I take the time to explore the new terrain. I cup both breasts with my smaller hands. I used to love doing that with a woman. I'd stand behind her, both of us naked, reach around and gently take her breasts in both my hands at one time, just lifting and cradling them at first but then letting my hands slide up to tweak her nipples. They most always enjoyed that, now I know why. The feeling isn't erotic or sexy. It's my hands and my boobs. My hands know the familiar feeling but my breast don't. It's plain strange and weird. Not painful. Actually, it's very pleasant, just not sexy. I let my hands trail down my ribcage, one on each side, until they rest on my hips. There's more there on my new body than my old, my hips are easier to find now. I push both hands across my taught stomach until they meet in the middle and then reverse direction back across the hips, around and down until they both have a handful of ass. This is another new sensation. I was always a bit of a flat ass before. Never had any problem getting things in and out of the back pockets of my pants, what my Mom called a slack seat. Not anymore. If she could see me now, she'd freak. I slide my hands back around to the front and push them lower. I've got to know. I lead with my fingertips at first but switch to just my right index finger when I reach the ... no ... my pussy. Probing ever so slowly with the finger, I push through the pubic hair, past the folds of skin, and finally feel it slide inside my body, up to my second knuckle. It's only there for a second or two before I feel the beginnings of a panic attack and remove my hand quickly. Nothing I have ever experienced before prepared me for the feeling of my finger moving up into my body. Willing myself to calm down, I return my hand to the opening but explore the area around the vaginal lips. I've gone down on some of my girlfriends in the past so I'm familiar with what's there, I just didn't realize how sensitive everything is. Maybe it's just the hot water. Eventually, I find the ... stop being so clinical ... my clit. I rub my finger back and forth across it several times. Ohhh God! Guess I can't argue about magic any more. I stop when I hear Leeanna returning. When we first got back here, Leeanna ... that's the girls name. She introduced herself after recovering from the shock of me not doing what her father suggested I do. Anyway, Leeanna helped me get my pack off and then pumped the tub full of hot water from the kitchen. The stove has an attached water tank. There's a direct pipe from the tank to the tub and a hand pump. Pretty slick. Leeanna said her father built it, in fact, he built the whole place, with a little barn raising help from the community, which has a population of only about seven hundred people, most of which are old and stodgy and there aren't many kids her age and there is nothing to do for fun. Leeanna is a bit of a talker when she gets rolling. She thought she was talking to another girl just a few years older than herself and I just sat and mostly listened. She was surprised when I objected to her helping me undress. The next problem is what am I going to wear? There's no change of clothes in my pack. What I was wearing no longer fits and stinks to high heaven. Leeanna said she had an idea but needed to check with her father first. She'd been gone for only about ten minutes before just now coming back, her arms loaded with clothes. * * * *** * * * *** * * * "My goodness! Alex, you are positively beautiful! And smell much better." "Thanks a lot Mirantha, or should I call you Miran now?" "Miran makes more sense. It is my real name. Mirantha was just a variation I used while in New York. It was a better fit. Speaking of which, we should come up with a new name for you. What do you think of Alexia?" "It sounds like a car or a new type of Viagra." He slaps his hand on the table top. "Viagra! I knew that I had forgotten to bring back something. Oh well, maybe next time. Regardless, you need a new name that fits your current look. I think Alexia works very nicely, as do the clothes you are wearing." I lift up the hem of my skirt slightly. "What, this old thing? I just threw it on." Leeanna had brought me some of her mother's clothes. Her dead mother's clothes. Died shortly after Leeanna was born and her father couldn't bring himself to get rid of them. They had been stored in a chest that he had built for her. She had been shorter than me, a bit smaller up top and a bit wider in the middle. Leeanna insisted that I try on several different outfits, all variations of a peasant dress, before she was happy. I asked for some pants but she was aghast. Women do not wear pants. Her Mother would never even own a pair of pants. So much for Women's Liberation. Guess I'm stuck with the dress, chemise and bloomers Leeanna chose. She even did my hair and loaned me a pair of shoes, a kind of moccasin, that didn't fit half bad. She had brought me back to the kitchen then left "Where's Mr. Tyber?" I ask. "He agreed to give us the kitchen so that we could talk in private. I see that you have your pack with you. What's so important about it?" "It contains the tools of my trade. A very hot laptop, a portable printer, a handheld scanner, tools, solar charger, portable power supply, burner cell phone. Everything needed by the man on the run." He smiles and chortles. "Except you're no longer a man on the run. You're a woman on the run and none of those things are of any value here. We have no internet, no computer networks to hack, no cell phone towers, and no electricity. Compared to your world, we are in a technological desert." "It would seem so. So much for planning." "I must say, Alexia, you seem much more accepting of all this than I anticipated. Your personality in your world would have led me to expect a much more ...active response." "I know what you mean, Miran. For some reason, I just don't have it in me, though I do have one item in this pack that may explain my calm attitude. Can I show you?" "If you wish." I reach into my bag and remove it. "This is a Glock 17, a 9 millimeter semiautomatic handgun using a staggered clip with a seventeen round capacity. With one already in the pipe, that's eighteen rounds total. I've got three more loaded clips in the pack along with three hundred boxed rounds. If you don't start giving me the straight story in ... oh, about twenty seconds, I'm going to empty this entire clip into your head and upper body, saving the last three for your new dick." I sit down in the chair opposite of him, less than six feet away, the gun pointed right between his eyes. "The clock is ticking ... now." The look in his wide eyes tells me he knows exactly what I'm holding in both hands and that he's aware of what I can do to him. And he believes I will do it. Yet, he says nothing. "Fifteen seconds, Miran." "Ahhhh. Very well, Alexia. Sorry, Alex. Let us not be hasty. You need me to ..." "Ten seconds." "Wait. You have no right to ..." "Seven seconds." "WHAT DO YOU WAN'T FROM ME?!" "Where exactly are we? I don't mean geographically. I mean space and time." "We are in a parallel universe, very similar to your universe. In our world, it is magic that rules." "Is that how I got here, magic?" "No, it was technology, technology from your world, actually." "Explain. Now." "You understand, this is what I've been told. I assume it's true but the people who really did all this are in your world." "Accepted. Go on." "Each universe has a unique frequency that permeates everything in that universe. The land, the air, the animals, plants, people, everything. The device that I used can change that frequency for a tiny space in one universe to match the frequency of another universe, creating a temporary one way portal. Your scientists invented it and used it to travel to our universe. They first sent mechanical things called robots but eventually came themselves. That's when they discovered about the sex change." "Why does that happen?" "No one knows, at least they haven't told us if they do know. We don't have scientists, we have witches." "Could it be magic?" "Maybe, but that's not how magic works." "What do you mean that's not how magic works?" "That question opens another can of worms, as your people say. Could we save that one for later?" "Alright." "Though, I might add, we are very thankful about that effect. It likely saved us from being conquered by your world." "What do you mean?" "How would your army react if they knew that crossing into our world would make them women? With all the inherent weaknesses of the sex, with the possibility of being raped if captured? I think it would give any military force pause, don't you?" "What about women soldiers? They'd become men." "You don't have women soldiers, at least not enough to try to conquer an entire world. We can defend ourselves, trust me about that, but your officials would likely treat magic with the disdain you do. A bloody war has been avoided due to an unexplained phenomenon." "You might be right. You said this portal is one way. Can it be one way back to my universe?" "Yes, obviously. That is how I got there." "Good. Fire up that stick and send me home." I move the muzzle of the Glock a little closer to the bridge of his nose. He swallows hard. "I would love to, Alex. I really would but ... aahh ... we have a bit of a problem here that only you can help with, you see." "And why should I care about your problems?" "Your world created them." "Go talk to the President. Or the United Nations. Or who ever is screwing you over. Not. My. Problem. Dude." "More particularly, it's the technology industry that created the problem." "So I'm the one computer user on the face of the planet who gets blamed?" "Not blamed exactly. You are uniquely qualified to help us." "And who are us?" "Rebels fighting a corrupt and unjust government." "I've heard that one before. You mean one group of people wanting to kick out a bunch of greedy bastards so they can become the next group of greedy bastards. No thank you." "Well, the current